Gabi Elkaim's diary from Bulawayo

By Gabi Elkaim

April 12, 2009

Bulawayo - For the two months I've been back, we've mostly been very lucky: municipal water has been plentiful and we haven't had any power cuts. We've also had a great deal of rain, though this year, the quantity of rain was not ideal for the crops. Opah says that because we've had so much rain, it will be a long cold winter. And indeed, it's mid-April and we've already started to load up on firewood, a month earlier than usual. The cold has begun to creep up on us, and with it, suddenly power cuts have become more prevalent. Some last an hour or two, some the whole day... in the Western suburbs, perhaps even longer. Rumour has it, something is being fixed at the power hub in Kariba... no one asks too many questions. We're all veterans when it comes to power cuts... and so the generator goes on from time to time, or the candles are lit, or we simply suck it up, barely acknowledging the absence of the god of electricity, as if we'll trick him into returning, though really only tricking ourselves.

On Wednesday morning, Opah and I woke up early and went into town in search of firewood. The place that always used to sell it when I was growing up sells it no longer. But a man parked outside invited us to follow him to the industrial sites, to a place where he buys it in bulk in order to supply a clientèle that uses indoor wood-burning stoves. Upon arrival at this place, another man came running toward us warning that our front tyre was about to fall off. And so we discovered that the night prior, our property had been broken into, and an attempt had been made to steal a tyre off the car. Opah had heard the dogs going nuts at about 3am and had turned on all the lights, which it seems, was enough to scare off the intruders. Since then, we've decided to let the dogs roam the front yard instead of being confined to the back. ...So while driving to town, with only 2 bolts out of 6 intact, 3 of the wheel studs broke under the weight of the car. The tyre shook as if deciding whether to cling to the axle or to retreat to the road. Luckily it chose the axle, and it was caught before anything sinister was able to happen.

Wednesday night was the start of Passover, and an astonishing one hundred people were present at the communal seder that evening. Florence, a woman whose forte is Jewish cooking, and who has been freelancing around the Jewish community for years, prepared the entire meal over a 3-day period. That evening one hundred people assembled to read the story of Exodus, and yes, another day, another power cut... another affirmation of the resilience of Zimbabweans: not only was the first half of the story recounted by candlelight, but one hundred servings of chicken soup and mazta balls were heated up over an open fire!

By some stroke of luck, we managed to have the car fixed on Thursday. It seems that to get things done here usually requires infinitely more patience than anywhere else in the world. And yes, I am beginning to see the miracles of our existence here on a daily basis. Good Friday arrived, and with our car intact and loaded with Easter eggs, we headed out to Matopos to visit an orphanage that is run by a good friend of mine. There is an electric moment that occurs whenever I drive to Matopos. It happens around the time we pass the dam on our right, and catch the first glimpse of the magnificence of the balancing rocks. My body tingles in awe. J claims that beneath and within these balancing granite boulders, millions of crystals can be found, and they contribute to this tremendous energy that is felt there. Initially W had been reluctant to join us, claiming that he did not have the koach to spend the day depressed with sick orphaned children, but after some arm twisting, he gave in. The orphanage, 70 or so kilometres out of town, is such a happy place... a far cry from depressing: 36 children live there and are well loved and taken care of. One-fifth of them are HIV positive, and all of these are on ARV's where they are monitored and compliance is ensured. 5 of the children took us on a leisurely 4km hike up the kopjie. With views that can only remind us pf how tiny we are in such a massive universe, and yet how interconnected our existence is, the Matopos humbles, consumes, and rejuvenates us, and then spits us back out into Bulawayo, feeling as though we've been on a 3-day vacation.

The weekend flies by, and I sit in the garden early this morning, hearing
the sound of my fingers hitting the keyboard, the gentleness of a cool
breeze, the calls of the birds, the odd dog barking in the distance. All
these sounds become like white noise, and I become aware of the loudest noise that exists here, the sound of quiet. Sunday: another day, another power cut. And with that, my laptop is about to run out of batteries.